


Close the Door

by viyeolent (Doxophobia)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Bitterness, Denial of Feelings, Exes, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Sex, Lots of denial, M/M, Maybe Romance, Post-Break Up, a bit of angst, fuck buddies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2018-10-23 10:30:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10717629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doxophobia/pseuds/viyeolent
Summary: Neither of them is brave enough to admit it, but Chanyeol and Baekhyun both struggle with their feelings for each other long after they have broken up.





	1. Me

**Author's Note:**

> A three-part series with drabble-length chapters imported from my Livejournal account. Inspired by MADTOWN's [Emptiness](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8eVA4g-oakg).

 

 

> Whoever I meet, I look for you  
> Even in my dreams,  
> I hurt over your empty seat  
> I toss and turn then I wake up

 

 

“You know what? Jongdae asked me the funniest thing today.”  
  
  
“Oh? Care to share it?”  
  
  
Chanyeol snickers, throwing his coat off his shoulders and already anticipating the hands that come up to his neck. He can see the mischief in Baekhyun’s eyes—it’s always a precedent of a great night—before the man underneath him caresses the side of his face and tugs him down for a heated kiss. Baekhyun pushes the coat further down his shoulders and kicks the door close, letting out that little moan, the one that he’s sure Baekhyun’s current boyfriend will never get enough of.  
  
  
“He asked me if we’re getting back together,” Chanyeol laughs, catching Baekhyun’s bottom lip between his own lips and running his hand down his ex’s back. The hands slide down to the buttons of his shirt.  
  
  
“Yeah,” Baekhyun replies, a little breathless. Truth be told, Baekhyun looks magnificent with a touch of pink on his cheeks. “It’s hilarious,” the man adds, almost like an afterthought, before pushing against his shoulders and breaking the kiss for good.  
  
  
“ _Okay_ ,” Chanyeol pushes air out of his lungs, wrangling a smile to dangle on his lips, before he throws his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “What have I done this time?” He asks, brows drawn together as he watches his ex-boyfriend zip himself up like they weren’t in the middle of making out just seconds ago.  
  
  
“Nothing,” Baekhyun quips and pats his chest. “I just remembered that I have a date tonight."  
  
  
“Alright,” Chanyeol purses his lips together, stopping himself from voicing out the frustration climbing up his throat, and sighs, “And now tell me the _real_ reason we can’t have sex hours before your imaginary date.”  
  
  
“I _do_ have a date.”  
  
  
“With whom?”  
  
  
“You hate him. Anyway, Yeol, look,” Baekhyun smiles—and it’s the one that Chanyeol hates because it’s too damn bright and it brings back more memories than he’d like to admit—and steps closer to play with the loose black around his open shirt. “Since you’ve mentioned it… this thing we have going on… it isn’t going to be anything more, is it? We’re not getting back together again right?”  
  
  
“Absolutely. No strings attached,” Chanyeol lies—Chanyeol _knows_ to himself that it’s a lie—and he feels like throwing himself down a staircase would be easier than noticing how his ex’s eyes catch light and how they avoid looking into his, after he has opened his mouth to answer.  
  
  
“Good,” Baekhyun says as he dusts the pieces of Chanyeol’s invisible hopes of actually taking Baekhyun to his bed tonight; of waking up to Baekhyun and sharing breakfast and kisses tomorrow; of actually getting back together instead of simply dreaming at night about it.  
  
  
It’s the right answer, saying that they should remain as each other’s option to fool around with. It’s the right answer and Chanyeol knows it is—because he can’t bear to be Byun Baekhyun’s boyfriend and drive himself insane whenever the arguments start again. It’s the answer he should want. It _is_ what he wants, Chanyeol quickly convinces himself, because when he opens his mouth again to say something, he sees Baekhyun’s lips curve downwards into a ghost of a frown.  
  
  
Baekhyun doesn’t want to talk about it. _He_ doesn’t really want to either since they’re in a good place, but hell, he suddenly doesn’t even know what he wants right now. He doesn’t want to ruin this—sex with Baekhyun without the complications of being dysfunctional together—but he admits that sometimes, _sometimes,_ he forgets. At the back of Chanyeol’s mind, he knows that if Baekhyun really does leave, right now, then today will be another day that he orders take-out and asks himself why he keeps getting these thoughts and why he thinks about how things used to be once he’s left alone.  
  
  
“You know,” it’s Baekhyun who speaks again. “Breaking up with me is the best thing you’ve done for me,” he says, in that tone of voice that Chanyeol secretly despises because it makes things sound okay; it makes Baekhyun sound okay, and sure, and calm about everything.  
  
  
Having broken up means Chanyeol doesn’t have to shout at Baekhyun for the most stupid things anymore and Baekhyun doesn’t have to give him stupid reasons to start shouting. Baekhyun doesn’t throw plates at him, hoping they would miss, and Chanyeol doesn’t break doors down, realizing too late why he changes the locks in the first place. Not being together means there wouldn’t be any crying or being petty and being jealous—just all the chemistry and physicality without getting too caught up with all the technicalities and assumptions of calling someone _mine_ and being someone’s _yours._  
  
  
They’re both happy where they are. Apart.  
  
  
“I know,” Chanyeol replies, as levelled as he can, as he pulls the loop of fabric off his collared neck and leaves his chest bare of his shirt. He’s not going to make a big deal out of this. He has already spent _so_ much of his time being angry with Baekhyun before. “Getting over me is the best thing you’ve done.”  
  
  
Chanyeol truly believes that things have worked out for the best even though there seems to be a small part of him that hasn’t yet fully accepted being apart yet, especially when Baekhyun pecks his lips as an unnecessarily twisted version of a _goodbye_.  
  
  
"I got over the break up,” Baekhyun murmurs against his lips. “It’ll take me a little longer to get over you.”  
  
  
Chanyeol both waits and doesn’t for the words to sink in; for them to come together and make sense. It’s easier to pretend there’s nothing to be felt than to act upon what’s left in his chest. He’s not going to ask Baekhyun to try this again with him. He’s not going to hurt Baekhyun again.  
  
  
“I’ll see you later,” He answers and doesn’t resist when they both lean in for one more kiss. “The key’s where it was last time if you want to spend the night here.”  
  
  
Baekhyun nods without commitment and lets a thumb swipe over the pink of his lower lip, as if to erase the memory of ever coming into contact with another, before he looks up at the younger man’s face and laughs. Then, Baekhyun is gone and Chanyeol sighs, pushing away thoughts of second chances and the feeling of his heavy heart as he closes the door.

 

 

> I was a fool  
> What more is there to say?

 

 


	2. You

 

 

> You can curse at me  
> If that makes your anger go away, okay

 

 

It's midnight when he comes back. True enough, the key is where it was before, and he fishes it out of its hiding place to enter their— _Chanyeol's_ —apartment. There's static coming from the television until he switches it off and there's only the light of the moon from the open balcony seeping into the living room.  
  
  
Baekhyun stares at the silhouettes of soju bottles on the low table and at the lone survivor in Chanyeol's grasp, taking it away, before he taps Chanyeol's cheek. Once, twice, until there's a groan in the dark and a low, unamused voice grumbling, "Stop it."  
  
  
"But I'm back," Baekhyun replies, whispering into his ex's ear and climbing onto a hard lap with an intentional grinding of his hips. "Didn't you miss me?"  
  
  
Chanyeol says nothing, it almost convinces him that the guy really chose to sleep than to entertain him, until there are hands slithering to grasp his waist and press him harder; down. He moans, closing his eyes and appreciating the sensation of two cocks rubbing through fabric, and immediately parts his lips when another mouth claims his. He tangles a hand in Chanyeol's hair as he flushes their chests together and feels the warmth reach all the way down, both from being able to touch Chanyeol's skin and having the restrictions torn so that Chanyeol could fully touch him.  
  
  
Baekhyun shivers as Chanyeol's tongue flattens itself against his throat, hot and wet, before it's replaced by a pair of lips that leave purple in their wake. He reminds the man beneath him to not get carried away, but doesn't attempt to stop Chanyeol from latching onto his skin and sucking until a bruise forms. He vaguely admits to himself that he never should have gone out, because just thinking about his ex's mouth already beats making out with a stranger from some club, no matter how attractive.  
  
  
He almost feels guilty, having lied to Kai about not feeling up to going all the way, just because he had been thinking of someone who shouldn't matter to him anymore because he is already past being someone significant to them. If he would only say _yes_ , Kai would take him home. Kai would have taken him home in a heartbeat if the vodka had kicked in fast enough. Kai could become his reason to move on if he would only accept that having sex with Chanyeol doesn't mean he's something or anything to Chanyeol.  
  
  
Baekhyun also knows it's pointless to feel guilty, to come back feeling like he should wash himself of something, because it's not cheating if they’re not exclusive. He's not a cheater since he's not in a relationship with Chanyeol anymore. It always feels like he is, though.  
  
  
He's well aware that it's a bad idea, helping himself to Chanyeol's cock and turning himself into one of Chanyeol's options for passing the night again. It's always a terrible idea to choose Chanyeol because Chanyeol may care about him but it's _just_ not enough; because Chanyeol actually hurts him so much without _even_ knowing; because Chanyeol is _already_ his ex. Chanyeol is _already_ his 'once upon a time', his 'used to be', and his biggest 'was'.  
  
  
But Chanyeol is also his biggest 'still'. It's _Chanyeol_. Although Baekhyun has finally, _finally_ gotten over the part where Chanyeol decided to break away from him, a part of himself still clings to the hope that he most definitely _will_ end up with Park Chanyeol.  
  
  
Why? Because in relationships, there's always someone who loves more. He's been told, many many times before, that _he's_ that someone. But, if there is no relationship, what does that make him?  
  
  
A fool.  
  
  
Baekhyun is a fool. It's as simple as that. Maybe even a masochist.  
  
  
"You're back," Chanyeol exhales. "So early," his ex continues, with a very obvious slur. "'e wasn't any good, huh?"  
  
  
"You're drunk," Baekhyun points out, blinking away the image of Kai's face just before he left—uncertainty and frustration bound together by a single string of hope—and letting Chanyeol lean closer to kiss him. The kiss is sloppy, and it tastes likes alcohol, but he welcomes it anyhow because Chanyeol rarely initiates, rarely kisses him anymore. So he kisses back, wishing Chanyeol was at least a little bit more sober for this and a little bit more careful with his own hands.  
  
  
"You're horny," Chanyeol chuckles. It's that breathy, sarcastic kind of chuckle that used to always make Baekhyun uneasy, because Chanyeol used to shout at him for the smallest things; used to always be so, so angry with him; used to make him cry so much and so often because all that came out of Chanyeol's mouth was that being apart was the best for both of them.  
  
  
"Why were you drinking?" Baekhyun quietly asks, spreading his legs and supporting himself with a hand on Chanyeol's shoulders and another to guide the shaft of a hard, leaking cock.  
  
  
His ex-boyfriend doesn't answer until he's sinking back down Chanyeol's lap and feeling full, breath turning ragged as he rolls his hips. Chanyeol's palms are hot on the skin of his hips, but they suddenly feel cold when he hears Chanyeol's voice say, "I thought of you. I thought of _you_... having sex... even _just_ kissing someone else—"  
  
  
Then there's a sigh. A short, shaky sigh, "Couldn't stand it. I didn’t… I don't want anyone else to see you like this."  
  
  
Baekhyun slows, trying to catch the lies in the dark. He only feels like a bucket of ice is slowly being poured on him when Chanyeol starts his drunken tirade—grumbling about finding replacements, ranting about what they are now compared to what they used to be, and complaining about how their friends used to say that they were so, _so_ perfect for each other—and the sex just... stops.  
  
  
"Yeol, what are you saying...?" He asks, confused. He can't move.   
  
  
"I'm saying that... you're only here for sex. You say hello to Chanyeol's dick... then it's just... goodbye Chanyeol's dick."  
  
  
"That's—" Baekhyun hesitates. Can he say it? Is he allowed to say it? "That's not true."  
  
  
"Why're you here then?" Chanyeol slurs, voice slightly raised. "Huh? Byun? Why come back here when you’ve got—when you're seeing someone else? Why... when you already found my—... a replacement? For me?"  
  
  
"I come back for you."  
  
  
" _Ha_. Nah. Just… _say_ it. Sex. You come back _just_ for the sex, but you know what...? I think of you even when I'm not horny. I don't need to be horny at all to think of you, and I think of how you used to kick me off of our old bed in the mornings. I think of why I still cook breakfast for you when you don't even live here anymore. Not a single fucking day passes that I don't think of you," Chanyeol's voice is scary, not because it sounds just a tad angry and strange, but because it sounds desperate, and Chanyeol is never—just  _never_ —desperate. "I can't... I can't _stand_ you, and _thinking_ of you— _I can't stand you_. But I can't… I can't stand you _being_ with someone else."  
  
  
"You told me to move on, Yeol," Baekhyun replies. It's a reminder, just a statement, not an argument. He knows he'll never win against Chanyeol. He's sick of arguing with Chanyeol.  
  
  
But truth be told, he would rather argue with Chanyeol than to not hear Chanyeol's voice at all.  
  
  
Chanyeol is silent then, his ex's hands slide up to his waist from his hips, pulling him close. It makes him realize it's not sweat, the dampness on Chanyeol's face is not sweat as Chanyeol answers, "I know. I _know_ , but I still hate him. I hate myself more than I hate him. Every single day. For letting you go. I shouldn't have let you go, but I did it for you. God knows I did it for you. You know that, don’t you?"  
  
  
Baekhyun feels an ache inside his chest as he wipes the tears with a thumb, when he makes them disappear only to clear the path for more. Chanyeol never cries, especially not in front of him, so he lets Chanyeol hug him, lets himself have this one moment of honesty with a drunk man with a hopefully sober heart.  
  
  
But it hurts. It hurts too much when all he feels beneath his fingertips is Chanyeol trembling, and all that he hears, after every repetition of, _"Be mine. Please be mine again,"_ is Chanyeol's broken voice saying his name. Seeing Chanyeol—Chanyeol who is always _so_ strong—like this, makes Baekhyun tuck himself under his ex's chin until sleep comes for Chanyeol; until the tears dry and the begging ceases.  
  
  
Although it made sense to everyone else—everyone else and Chanyeol—the break up never made complete sense to him. Now, though, Baekhyun understands, even if just a little, that this is why Chanyeol decided to break up with him; why Chanyeol doesn't look his way whenever he decides it's time for him to leave; why Chanyeol chooses silence even when he knows Chanyeol has something to say. Chanyeol wants the door to remain closed to keep himself out, because Chanyeol knows what cruelty is, and it's too cruel to ask for a second chance from the same heart you've already crushed, even if it somehow manages to survive and cry for you to come back.  
  
  
Baekhyun thinks about why it's hard for idiots to ask for things like normal people as he plants a kiss over one of Chanyeol's closed eyes and heaves his ex from the couch towards the bedroom. He comes back for their clothes and smoothens the creases in his shirt. He prepares to leave, but he can't do it. He doesn't want to leave like this.  
  
  
Instead, he slips under the covers and sneaks under Chanyeol's arm.  
  
  
"All you have to do is ask, you know…?" He murmurs, memorizing the lines of Chanyeol's face and suppressing the ache that comes from Chanyeol knowing to wrap arms around him—whether asleep or awake. Maybe tomorrow, he'll let Chanyeol know that staying like this—ignoring everything that doesn't involve getting physical—is a different kind of cruelty.  
  
  
It's cruel to force someone to let the past go when you know that, one way or another, you're both still praying for the door to open again.

 

 

> I want you, come back into my arms

 

 


	3. Us

"Huh...?"  
  
  
Something... smells good. Which is, well, _strange_ because Chanyeol just woke up and is still on his way to both his kitchen and sobriety. Not to mention, he lives alone; _has_ lived alone for a while now. Seriously, something _really_ smells _so good_ , and it's drawing him out like a moth to a ﬂame.  
  
  
"The soup is almost done," Baekhyun announces as soon as Chanyeol steps into the kitchen, making the newcomer jump. "There's Advil on the table. But you should eat ﬁrst. Your head hurts, doesn't it?"  
  
  
"Yeah..." Chanyeol nods, groggily rubbing the last remnants of sleep from his eyes while peering over his ex's shoulder. He has half the mind to cling onto the other man's waist, to nuzzle against the crook of his ex's neck and to begin whining about the most mundane things, just like what he used to do in the past. Before he could, however, Baekhyun slips away to get something from the fridge and he is left watching over a pot of soup that is slowly coming to a simmer.  
  
  
Chanyeol thinks it's just as well, because what the hell did he just try to do? He shakes his head and yawns as he reaches for a ladle to stir the soup. Ah... It's Mama Byun's special hangover soup. He can still remember the ﬁrst time Baekhyun made it for him; his then-boyfriend boasted about some secret ingredient that a chef like himself couldn't possibly pass up on. It's a pleasant enough memory.  
  
  
Wow. A memory. So many memories…  
  
  
It's just that... he hasn't had this soup since the break-up, so when Baekhyun scoots back to take over again and makes their shoulders brush, Chanyeol ﬁnds that there are no words to begin to describe that painfully short moment wherein he remembers—whether because of sleep or something else—that this is as close as they can possibly be anymore. This? _This_ is as close as he can allow himself to be anymore. Because, although he's hoping that Baekhyun realizes he always looks away ﬁrst because he can't risk staring for even a mere second too long, he knows to himself that Baekhyun deserves so much more than a man like him.  
  
  
"You cooked quite a lot," Chanyeol observes. He steals a glance from the person who's so focused on making this dish in front of him even more delectable than it already is.  
  
  
"Don't worry, I went to the grocery instead of taking from your fridge."  
  
  
Before Chanyeol's mouth can ask, _'What for?'_ his mind is all too happy to remind that the kitchen is normally off-limits. It's his space, has always been _his_ personal space, and is simply too sacred of a place to a chef like him. Truthfully, though, he doesn't really mind if Baekhyun still wants to use it; now, tomorrow, even months after tomorrow. There used to be a time when it had been Baekhyun's too, after all, and everything in his kitchen, including him, had been Baekhyun's. Once upon a time, Baekhyun belonged here.  
  
  
But judging by how defensive his ex his being, Baekhyun must believe being two people with history is closer to being strangers than friends.  
  
  
(Ha. Why would he ever want to be friends with Baekhyun?)  
  
  
"It's enough for two people," Chanyeol points out again, trying his best to sound as neutral as possible. "Are you taking some home...?"  
  
  
"I don't drink, Chanyeol," Baekhyun replies, _reminds_ , with a tinge of something that vaguely feels like annoyance. "So this is all for you."  
  
  
"What? Isn't this too much...? Do you expect me to eat _just_ this the entire day?"  
  
  
"I'm not forcing you to, okay? If you don't want to, it's ﬁne. If you don't want any of it, then that's ﬁne, too. I'll just take it with me and eat all of it if it burdens you so much."  
  
  
" _Aish_ , what nonsense are you saying? Leave it. You already said it's mine," Chanyeol swats the hand that attempts to steal the pot away, pressing his chest against a back and reaching around the shorter man to help steady Baekhyun's grasp with his own. "Hey! Mine! All mine!"  
  
  
Maybe he's fooling himself, something about wanting one _certain possibility_ so much that you start seeing things, or maybe, _just maybe_ , he really saw Baekhyun smile from the corner of his eye. It's gone too quickly after having surrendered to expectations, especially now that he's reaching for a spoon to taste the broth with. This reminds Chanyeol of when he would make dinners for Baekhyun using the recipes he intended to use for Viva Polo. Except that, this time, there's no being creative with cleaning up afterwards. No carrying Baekhyun to have the man's legs wrapped around his waist, no mouthing butterﬂy kisses that are guided by the lines that make up Baekhyun's collarbones, no complaining about the ﬂavor of their kisses when their tongues meet. No nothing.  
  
  
There's nothing...  
  
  
They are nothing.  
  
  
"It's good," Chanyeol says after a tentative sip, glancing from the simmering pot to Baekhyun who's now facing him. "It's refreshing."  
  
  
"But?" His ex replies, and it utterly stings when he remembers how he used to talk to Baekhyun about every little thing. With Baekhyun, the words simply ﬂowed... even the wrong ones.  
  
  
"It's delicious. That's it."  
  
  
"You don't look like it is."  
  
  
"I mean it," Chanyeol insists. "Just take the compliment."  
  
  
"Fine..."  
  
  
Baekhyun slips out of his half-embrace and scoops a hearty bowl of soup for him, careful not to spill any while setting it down the table. Then his ex beckons him to approach as if he were some dog. Baekhyun only ignores Chanyeol when he makes a face. They have breakfast together, and it's just like the ﬁrst of their many hungover mornings from before.  
  
  
This must be what it's like to miss. (Something, _someone_.)  
  
  
"Really, your cooking improved a lot," Chanyeol comments. He's already wolﬁng down his third bowl. "Have you been practicing?"  
  
  
"For whom would I practice for?"  
  
  
"Yourself. The new boyfriend, sometimes. Maybe," Chanyeol feels something inside his chest crack ever so slightly when Baekhyun only smiles; the soup churning in his stomach and gnawing his insides. What did he just swallow and why does it feel like acid eating him up from the inside...?  
  
  
And then, Baekhyun just had to ask, "Do you want me to ﬁnd someone new that badly?"  
  
  
Chanyeol bites his tongue by mistake. He clenches his jaw to pretend as if nothing happened instead of admitting that it hurts. After all, the sooner he forgets about it, the faster it'll go away.

He wants Baekhyun to be happy. But does he want Baekhyun to ﬁnd someone new? Of courseㅡ  
  
  
ㅡnot.  
  
  
No...  
  
  
ButㅡChanyeol can't say it. The words get stuck in his throat, crawling from the recesses and sprouting into a fake smile, so all that comes out is a noncommittal, "You deserve to move on."  
  
  
After that, they spend the rest of breakfast in silence; cleaning up, avoiding certain topics. Some spare minutes for kissing, which naturally escalates into some sort of petting; holding Baekhyun and being held in return. It's ﬁne for as long as neither of them remembers not to hold on for too long. It's okay to be aggressive with their hands and lips, making numerous little ghostly marks on each other's skin, because reality only becomes a little more terrifying once they slow down enough to let the thoughts sink in. And it always sinks in. Reality. There is no running away from it, after all.  
  
  
"I really will get over you," Baekhyun suddenly says once they're standing in the apartment's doorway. Another line that marks the many boundaries between and separating them now; one small step to welcoming today's goodbye. "One day, I'll stop coming here. There wouldn't be any more texts from me. I'll realize that wanting you to take me back is wasting the person I am because you're not the only person that can love me. Someone out there will. A lot. As much as you have."  
  
  
"That's right. One day," Chanyeol answers; a habit. He talks without thinking ﬁrst. All of a sudden, he loathes talking and his own mouth. Oh, what he wouldn't give to be deaf right now so he wouldn't hear himself speaking; to be anywhere else.  
  
  
Baekhyun's face falls for the slightest moment, eyes downcast, and it causes a tug in Chanyeol's chest that consistently chants, 'This is wrong. This is wrong, this is _wrong_ , this is _so_ fucking wrong and _you know it_.' Something inside him shrinks once Baekhyun speaks again to ask, "When 'one day' comes, will you be happy for me, Yeol?"  
  
  
Once more, the liar that Chanyeol has conditioned himself to be answers for him; stabs the honest man inside and stuffs roses inside his sewn mouth. "Of course," he says without really thinking, he always does, and every time, it feels like he's killing something within him; something stubborn, something grieving, something that desperately wants to cease being helpless and voiceless.  
  
  
When Baekhyun leaves today, Chanyeol remains by the open doorway a little longer, stares at where his everyday regret is born and dies just a tad longer, before last night's good dream completely erases itself from his memory.  
  
  
(If you won't walk through it, then close the door.)

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

  
"Hm? Did you say something?"  
  
  
"Nothing," Jongdae merely shrugs from the doorway when Baekhyun raises a brow at him, counting the seconds while pretending that he hasn't been staring. "It's just... it's been a while."  
  
  
Baekhyun ﬂashes a cheeky smile. "If I'm going out, I have to look good," he explains with a wink at his own reﬂection.  
  
  
Jongdae says nothing else, only slowly bounces from one heel to another. His friend is growing impatient, Baekhyun knows, so he ﬁnishes applying the last of the eyeliner before following the man outside to hail a cab. Jongdae has been trying to set him up with a colleague... for a stupidly long time now. Subtly, sure, but very few things slip past Baekhyun's radar when it comes to things like this, so when Jongdae initiates small talk that eventually leads the conversation to their ofﬁce's resident hottie, Baekhyun isn't at all surprised.  
  
  
"Who knows? Maybe tonight's the night," Baekhyun makes a show of a smirk, which cuts Jongdae's rather one-sided tirade short.  
  
  
"Huh? Tonight's the night? Wait, what?"  
  
  
"Maybe I'll ﬁnally let Kim Jongin take _me_ home."  
  
  
"Holy shit, for real?" Jongdae slaps his own thigh in ill-disguised excitement, throwing a proud arm around Baekhyun's shoulders and laughing, "Getting back in the game and starting out strong, eh! Already going for key to heaven! Ahhh I'm almost jealous!"  
  
  
Baekhyun could only reciprocate the laugh with a smaller chuckle of his own. Scratch that, he's free to react however he wants now. Besides, denying Kim Jongin's charisma is denying the demon in plain sight who eyefucks him whenever he passes by the ﬁnance department.  
  
  
Everyone knows about the six pack hiding underneath that pristine, respectable ofﬁce worker get up. It's... well, pretty common to have a wet dream about Kim Jongin at least once in your life. That's what Jongdae says, anyway, and it's got Baekhyun more or less convinced. It doesn't help at all that Baekhyun had once ghosted his ﬁngertips over that hard gift set from the heavens because he was tipsy and bumping onto things in his struggle to reach the bathroom. Baekhyun doesn't remember much from that after party, but he _does_ remember Jongin escorting him out for some fresh air. Of course, Chanyeol didn't like that. At all.  
  
  
The endearing sound that Kim Jongin's mouth makes as a laugh is just too good and too effective of a distraction, Baekhyun admits, and it has even got his ex _so_ damn threatened ever since day one. No guy who's truly wholesome looks at someone else's boyfriend the way Jongin does, Chanyeol used to grit. To Park Chanyeol, nothing about Jongin could be trusted. However, they really were just colleagues, Baekhyun and Jongin, and Chanyeol's never tiring ire made Baekhyun feel like Chanyeol didn't trust him.  
  
  
Now that Baekhyun thinks about it, maybe Chanyeol really _is_ just an insecure guy. Maybe they ﬁt each other so perfectly because Chanyeol was the kind of person who liked to be needed, the ideal person to someone like Baekhyun who simply liked to... well, cling; to need. Maybe they really got along well with each other as friends, he and Chanyeol, and somehow, they thought that friendship was some sort of guarantee that they'll be perfect for each other in all other aspects as well. Obviously, they weren't. Perfect, he means.  
  
  
Just because you get along now, doesn't mean you will in the future. Reality doesn't work that way, and it doesn't shape itself however you want it to _just_ because you want it to; _just because_ you hope it will.  
  
  
And that's the thing. You can keep hoping and praying for one thing, for one person, with everything you've got and it wouldn't matter. The universe refuses to twist itself just for you. _Nothing_ in the world is going to help you if the one person you keep wanting a future with is hoping not to end up with you. It _sucks_ and it's hard to swallow because nobody likes getting hurt, but that's just how life is. You'll just have to get used to it if you don't _move the fuck on_.  
  
  
Baekhyun understands this. Of course he does. He's not stupid, and he's deﬁnitely not naive. It's just thatㅡ  
  
  
How? How _do_ you 'move on'? Breaking up is already awful, so why must people also put up with the emotional baggage of its aftermath? Mourning over the remnants of the 'what used to be' feels so much longer and heavier than its actual destruction. Why can't people automatically revert to being _just_ friends when a relationship fails? Then again, why would he ever want to be friends with Chanyeol? Who wants to be _just friends_ with the person whom they believe is the love of their life?  
  
  
Even if there are a hundred or a thousand more faces he can etch into memory, at the back of Byun Baekhyun's mind is still the image of a lazy Park Chanyeol; Chanyeol sitting on a couch a wee bit small for a man his size, Chanyeol whose dark hair looks so messy and yet also seems to be tousled just right, Chanyeol who searches for him ﬁrst thing in the morning. As Baekhyun spots Kim Jongin by the bar, he can still remember the way Chanyeol perks up like a puppy whenever he comes home and welcomes him with open arms and the most handsome smile. This suffocating thought remains while Baekhyun dances through the crowd to reach his acquaintance. It's like drowning in low tide. He can move on, he knows he can, but he just _can't_.  
  
  
Maybe he shouldn't be here, after all.  
  
  
"Jongdae, Iㅡ"  
  
  
"Can you believe it?! Jongin's alone right now! Jongin! Alone! People, what the fuck!? You _all_ are wasting a golden opportunity!"  
  
  
Baekhyun considers just leaving. He can slip out of the club later. But maybe he shouldn't. Where else will he go on a Friday night with his broken heart that wouldn't remind him of the ﬁgurative hole in his chest? And so, stay it is.  
  
  
Jongdae downs two consecutive shots as warm up and easily abandons Baekhyun to venture out on the dance ﬂoor. At the end of the night, Jongdae will lose another shirt and whine about it having been his favorite. A liar, Jongdae.  
  
  
Who isn't? A liar, he means.  
  
  
Baekhyun is sipping on ﬂavored beer when Jongin starts a conversation. He knows that the short pause Jongin made was to look for Chanyeol. No aggressive boyfriend in sight? No one to glare and wrench Baekhyun away? Hm. Great. That's great, yeah? Jongin ﬁnally gets to buy him a drink, and he naturally _lets_ Jongin buy him a drink. One repulsive shot, two mojitos... he's not sure if this one's the ﬁfth and he doesn't what it's called but the mojito tastes so much better than this.  
  
  
"You're really quiet."  
  
  
"Hm?"  
  
  
"You don't talk a lot. I like talking. I talk a lot. You should try it," Baekhyun is more than sure he's starting to talk nonsense, but Jongin keeps on nodding and answering as if he were the greatest conversationalist ever born. It's nice. Baekhyun thinks it's nice getting to look at a smiling mouth for a change. Not a scowl. Chanyeol isn't here to scowl.  
  
  
"I'm much better at other things," Jongin chuckles. Sounds really nice. Really, really nice.  
  
  
"Oh yeah...?"  
  
  
Jongin's lips look nice _.  
  
  
'They'll look nicer on me,'_ Baekhyun muses while he stares at the line that his colleague's mouth is making. Makes him want to tuck Jongin in a bed and read bedtime stories. Full and soft. He concludes that Kim Jongin's lips have been made for kissing, somewhere in between closing his eyes and letting Jongin's tongue thoroughly explore his mouth. He likes how Jongin kisses... Jongin is a great kisser.  
  
  
Jongin is a great lover.  
  
  
Jongin... Jongin blows him out of mind.  
  
  
But Jongin isn't Chanyeol.  
  
  
Jongin _isn't_ Chanyeol.  
  
  
There is no one— _absolutely no one—_ like Chanyeol.  


 

 

_(Please don't close the door.)_


End file.
